


Like Mixing Fire and Gasoline

by luciferinasundaysuit



Category: The Voice RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:44:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luciferinasundaysuit/pseuds/luciferinasundaysuit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Blake Shelton is late for his show at the bar down the street from his college campus.  When he finally shows up, the city boy from down the hall is already on stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Mixing Fire and Gasoline

Blake pulled his truck into the parking lot of the bar down the street from campus, put it in park, grabbed his case, and hauled ass across the gravel and into the back door. His boots were scuffed, his hands were dirty, and he didn't have any extra strings, but at least he was there. 

He tried to clean some of the dirt out from under his nails and off of his jeans, but he was already half an hour late. Being a farm hand, a student, and a singer/songwriter was for shit, but that's who he was. 

When he got to the end of the hallway, he was surprised to see the city boy who lived on his hall standing in the middle of the stage, running through an up-tempo pop song with sad lyrics. It looked like pretty boy was playing the second set. He wondered who the hell made the decision to book them on the same night. City boy was clean, put together, and, well, pretty. The girls would love him, and some of the guys, too. Blake pulled his hat down low, wishing he had taken the time to change before he got there instead of waiting to throw on another shirt after sound check. 

He put his case down on the edge of the stage and opened it up, rifling through to look for a pick and - right, he didn't have any strings. He looked around for Bobby, the kid who handled the sound system. 

"Bobby? You got any strings?"

Bobby shook his head.

"Nah, bud, sorry, not this time."

Blake took his hat off and run his hand through his hair and over his face. This could be bad. His strings were old, and he'd probably break one if he didn't change them.

Suddenly, something hit him in the chest. Pulling his hand away from his face, he saw a packet of strings sitting in the top of his case. 

When he looked up, pretty boy was watching him and smiling. He smiled back. Pretty boy was a life saver, even though he'd never say so.

"Thanks, man. I needed those."

Pretty boy's smile got bigger.

"So I heard. You live on my hall in Pegasi, right? In the wing with the rest of the freshman music majors?"

So pretty boy did know who he was.

"Yeah, that's me. Guess I'm kinda hard to miss." 

Blake knew he stood out a little bit, even in a sea of big ole country boys.

"That you are. I'm Adam, Adam Levine."

Pretty boy stuck his hand out to shake, and Blake took it.

"Blake Shelton. Nice to meet you, Adam Levine."

If Blake held on just a little too long, Adam didn't seem to mind.

"Well, Blake Shelton, I need to finish up here, but then the stage is all yours. I'll try not to take too long."

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't. I know city boys have entitlement issues." Blake smirked at Adam, at eye level with him even though Adam was on the stage and he was on flat ground.

"And I thought country boys were patient, smelling the roses and counting cows and all that shit."

Oh, he had jokes. Blake could work with that.

"I'm patient, all right. Unless there's something I want."

Whether Blake's eyes flickered toward the stage or Adam, no one could swear to.

Adam's tongue snaked out and dragged over his bottom lip.

"I'll keep that in mind, Shelton."

"You best do that. I've gotta go change real quick. Those of us that work for a living get dirty sometimes." 

He inclined his head at Adam, waiting to see what he would say.

"Well, don't get lost, now. Hate to lose you so soon."

Blake raised his eyebrow at Adam, a little impressed. Still, this was a college bar in Oklahoma. They couldn't do this, at least not here.

He turned toward the back room, calling over his shoulder to Adam.

"See you later, then, city boy."

He kept his eyes trained on Adam until he rounded the corner, then heard the answer hollered at his retreating back.

"Yeah, Shelton, that you will."

Blake smirked to himself. He wasn't expecting this tonight, if ever. Now that he thought about it, Adam only lived two doors down from him. This could prove to be one hell of a year.

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Blake's song "Playboys of the Southwestern World."


End file.
